


A Comic's Christmas

by Canadian_BuckBeaver



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertail - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Angst with a Happy Ending, Big Brother Sans, Brotherly Love, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cinnamon Roll Papyrus, Depressed Sans, Determination (Undertale), Established Relationship, Fellcest - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Fontcest, Forehead Kisses, Kedgeup, M/M, Memories, Monster Dust (Undertale), Multi, Polyamory, Poor Sans, References to Undertale Genocide Route, Sans Remembers Resets, Secret Santa, Skeleton Puns, Spoilers - Undertale Genocide Route, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Undertail, Undertale Genocide Route, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Undertale Reset Issues, Undertale Spoilers, bledgeup, kustard - Freeform, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 01:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13513509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadian_BuckBeaver/pseuds/Canadian_BuckBeaver
Summary: Tale Sans is on the Surface, one of the few survivors of a genocide route.  He attempted to use the child's Determination against them, forever costing him his brother.  However, sometimes all it takes is a gentle hand in the right direction to have someone believe in the power of love, life and joy.





	A Comic's Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xXUndertale_loverXx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXUndertale_loverXx/gifts).



> I was backup Secret Santa for xXUndertale_loverXx! Hopefully you enjoy!

'How long had it been?'

His footsteps echoed down the pavement, hands stuffed into his normal blue hooded jacket, his eyes down and skull tucked to his chest, helping to brace himself against the Surface cold. It would be his first time experiencing winter on the Surface and, currently, it was rivalling the Underground with how cold it was. He shouldn't have assumed that the Surface would be warmer just because of a ball of fire in the sky. His worn pink slippers had finally been replaced with sneakers, helping him trudge on the sidewalk. The humans passed by him on either side without a care in the world, either not seeing him or used to the sight of monsters already.

'How long had it been?' He thought again, his white eye lights scanning the crowd of blurring, unknown faces. All who were carrying on with their day-to-day, mundane activities, now in a slightly more holiday cheer. They greeted each other and wore stupid hats, usually carrying parcels or bags, said Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, smiled and waved at one another. Almost like they were unaware of the little skeleton’s mind or thoughts. Of his burden. They just carried on... he felt envious for a second of them but brushed it aside. 

'How long had it been?' He asked himself again, a hand reaching up to stroke the torn, but still thick red scarf. He had had so many good days. But what goes up, must come down he supposed… 'How long had it been since he had been this close to falling down?' Sans' eyes lowered again, shielding the public from the view of his tears...

His loss.

* * * * *

As the days and seemingly years went by, Sans couldn't even remember what a normal day in the life of Snowdin and its monsters was anymore. Ever since the seventh soul had come to the Underground, all Sans could recall was flashes of his childhood, of looking after his baby brother, of Gaster, and then suddenly both Papyrus and him were both fully grown. Sentries of the Royal Guard. And then the resets had started.

All resets were different, none were ever the same. There was always someone new dead or alive, some weird combination of life and death. It soon came to him. Frisk and Chara were experimenting. At first they had wanted to release everyone, let everyone be free and see the Surface. But that wasn’t enough for them, was it? They had to do it again, and again. At first, things were good. They had reset, time and time again, but the child was peaceful. Quiet and timid, making friends with all the monsters, even with those that attacked them.

And then... then the killing had started. Slowly but surely dust had spread throughout the Underground. It had been minor monsters first. Monsters that had sat in the Ruins with Toriel. Sans, stupidly, chose not to act here. Perhaps he figured that the child would have their Fun, figure out whatever sick test that they were doing, and eventually tire of it. They would eventually stay on the Surface. Live happily ever after.

That was not the case.

Toriel had died by the human's hand first. Sweet Toriel. The queen who only wanted best for her people and for the child themselves... Sans couldn't understand it. What did the child have to gain by killing?

He hated that cold, dead look in their faces. That mask of unfeeling. Their eyes, whenever they seldom opened, were blood red. Like a demon's. Yet, time after time, they had spared Papyrus, so he sat back and did nothing. Just watched them, curious about their intentions and actions. The scientist deep inside of him was planning, reasoning.

They would eventually grow bored he theorized. They had to, eventually right? Snowdin's environment didn't change whenever the reset. They fell to the Ruins, and made their way to the castle, now slaughtering the monsters they met. Soon they would help them all to the Surface.

Then... then IT happened.

He had just warned Grillby about the human, started the early evacuation again. As Grillby gathered the would-be survivors, Sans headed to home. Papyrus' and the kid's date or playdate had to be over by now. Papyrus would be at the oven, humming to himself and cooking spaghetti. Talking about how he managed to change the human, set them on the right path.

The air was deathly still, much like a silent tomb. Not even the small animals that housed here dared make a noise. It seemed that all knew that, to make a noise, meant death. There was no cheerful music, no sounds of greeting. Just silence. Surely the kid had to become bored soon.

A red flash had caught his eye, causing him to freeze, and a cold pit of dread settle in his bones.

Papyrus' beloved scarf lay abandoned on the ground. He had rarely taken off since Sans had finished knitting it for him. It was unlikely for him to leave it lying around, especially where the annoying dog could so easily get it.

Walking over, he gently grabbed the scarf and pulled, pulling it free of the snow pile...

And uncovering the dust beneath it.

Time and place lost all meaning for Sans when his world crashed around him. He briefly remembered crying, pleading that it was a prank gone wrong, that it was another monster's dust. Yet he could feel it in his soul.

Papyrus, his baby brother. The one that he had sworn to always protect... was dead.

Dead at the hands of the human. 

Grief turned to anger, Sans' magic boiling in his soul, in his bones. It awoke the small amount of Determination that lay dominant within him.

That was the first of many times that he had worn Papyrus' scarf, meeting the child in the Judgement Hall, and finally making them pay for their sins. Time after time. Bone after bone. Blaster after Blaster. It gave Sans' a sick, perverted thrill to see that red heart shatter. To see the child die. To make them suffer as they had everyone else.

Sometimes their fights would end with the child resetting to the beginning. They would either try their route again or try the pacifist route. Sometimes Sans would die, murdered by them as they had his brother. But death never lasted long for him.

Either way, they always reset. They always began their adventure anew. With fresh HoPe and dreams, LoVe and love. A new chance.

How many times? Sans had long since lost count of the resets, of how many times he had killed and been killed, of how many times that his friends had been slaughtered for the sick, perverted joy of a child without morals.

It was Sans who grew tired of it. Of the games. Of the death and dust. Of the child having no punishment for their sins. He had finally come to realize that the kid would not tire of this game. That they were drunk off the power they felt, of playing God. They would continue as long as they were allowed. Until someone stepped in.

Sans needed to be that someone.

Over the next few resets, he had planned carefully. Watching the human carefully and seeing the reactions that occurred in their soul. He knew that the soul was red, dripping with Determination. If they had died they were given two options. An option to reset, one that sent them back to the beginning of their journey, and another that said Continue. This would bring them back to life, just before they died.

If he could just seize control of the soul, even for less than a moment, he could force the reset, and then potentially drain them of their Determination, a dangerous technique using his own soul. Still, if he could stop them once and for all it would be more than worth the risk. 

And, if he died, there was always next reset. 

The next run was total genocide. No one was spared. Not Toriel or Undyne, not the dogs or MTT....

Papyrus..... his younger brother… he too was slaughtered. He had failed him, again. That familiar pain of grief and anger bubbled up inside of him, along with something else. Some form of Determination flowed through him.. No more would the child be allowed to play these games! It was a long time coming but Sans was prepared to step in. Grabbing his brother's scarf again, Sans prepared for the Judgement Hall.

All was going to plan. The kid died, time after time. They were frustrated and angry now, making them sloppy. They were doing stupid mistakes. Running into the path of his Blasters, tripping over his bones. Sans watched them as they snarled and cursed, vowing to kill him once and for all. Papyrus’ scarf around his vertebrae, it gave him strength. He could feel his brother’s presence. He could feel the souls of the other monsters surrounding their fight. He would not fail them. Not again. He had let the kid play far too often, get away with too much…

It was time that they learned a lesson.

The sunlight shone through the large windows, glittered off of the golden hallways of the Judgement Hall. It would have been a hallway fit for the caste, majestic and gorgeous. That would be, of course, if the entire hallway wasn’t broken. Shot through protruding bones, fallen ceiling tiles and scorch marks. His attacks had not worked against the kid, but the structure of the hallway itself.

The kid… he eyed them, his Judgement eye scanning them carefully. Chest heaving for breath, skin covered in blood, scratches and bruises. Tears dripped down their cheeks as they fought off their fatigue and frustration. Their HP was low, but they were still driven, more desperate than ever to dust him. In other runs, he had given up by now, allowed himself that nap. Allowing them to cut him down.

Sorry kid. Not this time.

They grit their teeth and tightened their grip on their knife. This was it. This was the move that Sans was waiting for. They threw themselves to their feet and charged at him, screaming in fury, mixed in with what sounded to be hysterical laughter. The kid was truly unhinged, weren’t they? Their eyes opened for a split second and Sans saw red irises, leaking what looked to be black tar…

Not the time to be distracted!

Sans’ eye flared again, watching, letting them come closer, timing…

The knife glittered in their hand, gripped tightly and readjusted before they slashed out at him. Sans would have teleported but instead, he only adjusted his weight, letting his spine fall. He supposed that all those limbo games were beginning to pay off. His rib cage and soul, now out of the way of the knife, were safe. The kid locked eyes with him, wide eyes meeting sockets. Good old Sansey wasn’t playing by the rules anymore. One leg kicked out, knocking into the back of the kid’s knees, causing them to fall forward. Slowly Sans righted himself, watching as the knife was swung towards him in a desperate motion, trying to land that one hit needed.

Too little, too late.

The floors glowed blue for a split second, the blue magic reflecting throughout the entire room, seemingly slowing time to a crawl. The kid stared up at Sans for a split second. Their eyes faded from red to brown, and the black tar was replaced by blue tears. “I’m sorry…” they whispered to him.

“So am I, kid.” Sans responded, watching as the bone pierced their stomach. Watching as their lifeblood flowed from their body. Their soul blinked at him, the heart floating from their chest, cracks already appearing in it.

Now!

Sans grabbed the soul, pressing it into his own rib cage, and forcing his soul to surround it, and slowly start to absorb it. It was happening too slowly though. The red soul was cracking, already beginning to shatter. Desperate, Sans urged his soul on, forcing it to absorb all the Determination it could. His own Determination was activated, grabbing hold of the child’s and pulling it into him, reacting with his magic. He could feel the effects that it had on his magic already. His magic felt lighter but stronger, bubbling with a greater intensity. But yet it seemed to be also fading from him. He needed more, more Determination, more power. He needed to take control of the timeline, reset, and then act as its protector. His soul trembled as it fought to prevent the other soul from shattering. 

The soul finally split apart, his own soul flashing in pain. His eyes faded and he fell to his knees, clutching at his ribs. Still urging his soul to absorb the Determination. His mind began to flash with memories. A tiny Papyrus, being cradled in his arms, measuring him up against the door edging in the house as he quickly grew. Watching Papyrus and Undyne play at being Royal Guards, and all the sleepovers with Alphys, watching anime. He could still see Papyrus laying in bed, sleeping as he read Fluffy Bunny to him…. Papyrus standing with arms outstretched, and his large smile on his face.

“Papyrus!” Sans screamed, just as the world went dark. He briefly remembered sagging to the ground, his skull hitting the floor… it would have been the death of him if not for Papyrus’ scarf and his own hood. Even in death, his little brother was still looking after him.

When Sans woke up, he was disoriented. He was somewhere that was familiar to him… not Grillby’s, not his sentry station, and it definitely wasn’t his bed. It was much too hard to be his mattress. The sun was shining bright and birds were singing…

The sun shone off a puddle of red blood.

Jolting his feet Sans looked around. The Judgement Hall. Everything still heavily damaged and broken. Bones and scorch marks everywhere, the hallway beyond repair. Frisk’s body, where it had fallen. While Sans had slept, gravity and the weight of the body had taken over, causing the kid to fall to the ground, still perforated by the bone. The result…. Sans shuddered. For a moment he was glad that monsters dusted. If he had come across Paps or any of his friends like this…

Papyrus! Sans had to reset. Surely with the power of the soul he could…

Closing his eyes, he willed the power of Determination to flow through him. In his mind’s eye, a faded menu appeared, slowly coming into better view. ‘Save Overwritten’ was the first thing he saw. Good. So the kid no longer had Determination. He had finally overpowered the cycle…

The reset button was broken.

Sans’ felt nothing at first. This…. this couldn’t be happening. In all his calculations this was something that had never happened. The Determination should have transferred to him directly. Unless. Unless the soul shattered before he could absorb enough.

If… If that was the case…

Paps… everyone… they were all gone… forever this time….

He had killed them all.

Sans screamed, his soul darkening around the edges with his grief. To those who heard it, they thought it was the song of a banshee, a monster that they had long assumed extinct.

But when Asgore finally came to investigate, he only saw Sans, skull buried in a dusty, red scarf, sobbing as if his tears would never stop.

* * * * *

Sans continued to walk through the crowds, watching the people. Papyrus loved Christmas down in the Underground. He loved giving and getting, and he always made sure that he was on his best behaviour for Santa. Sans watched as a human Santa sat for pictures with children, listening to them whisper their Christmas wishes into his ears.

Papyrus would have loved it on the Surface too. His soul gave a sharp little pang as he thought of his little brother again. How he missed him. No matter how many days went by, he always thought of him. It was true with what they said. The pain never lessened, you just learned to deal with it and work with it.

Sans’ fiddled with the scarf, allowing himself a small smile. He remembered when Papyrus had realized that Asgore was playing at Santa. It had been just before the resets had started to happen.

“BUT WHY IS ASGORE DOING SANTA’S JOB?” he had asked, watching as Asgore crouched next to a small rabbit child. “SHOULDN’T SANTA BE HERE AND DOING THIS?”

“Santa is a busy guy, Paps.” Sans said, “He’s got all his elves back home to take care of. So Asgore just helps him out. He’s like an agent of Santa…”

Papyrus’ eye lights had grown in size and sparkled as he watched Asgore. “ISN’T OUR KING THE GREATEST, SANS? I’D SAY HE’S PRETTY COOL FOR DOING THAT.”

Sans shook himself from his memories, forcing himself to move his feet and carry on. He would have to enjoy those another time. There was no time to get lost in them today. Today, he was on a very tight time crunch, couldn’t afford to be late. He needed to get to the shop before it closed. If he didn’t he would never hear the end of it. Despite the overwhelming sense of sadness and emotions closing in he had to chuckle. He could see their faces, hear their voices… always so dramatic.

Finally, he pushed open the door to the butcher and meat shop, hearing the familiar ting of the bell. He inhaled deeply, letting the aroma of roasting meat surround him. Although he couldn’t stand the smell of blood or wet flesh, the savoury smell of cooking meat was one that he tended to enjoy. The Surface had so many ways of cooking their food, much more than the Underground did. It was a treat… “Hello, Comic.” The elderly shopkeeper said, looking up at him from his display. “Are you the one that they sent in for a pickup today?”

Comic… that was the new name that he had adopted on the Surface… he was no longer Sans. He had lost the privilege to use that name when he failed the Underground. Smiling at the man, he nodded. “Yep. You got it all ready for me?” he asked, winking slightly at him.

The shopkeeper, Bill, chuckled in slight amusement. “Of course I do. Believe me. I’ve learned my lesson on keeping your ‘little’ friend waiting.” Disappearing into the back room for a second, he brought out a large package. “One smoked turkey, pre-gutted but not stuffed.” He said, packing it for Comic. “So you guys doing anything for Christmas?” he asked, placing the turkey in a large box.

Comic shook his head. “Nothing really. We might stay up and watch some old time movies, but they aren’t really monsters to get into the spirit of things.” he sounded almost sad. Although he had gone all out for Papyrus for Christmas, he too had enjoyed certain aspects of the season.

Bill nodded in understanding. “That’s understandable. Some people, humans and monsters included, are just like that. Nothing you do or say can ever change them.” With a soft grunt, he forced the box closed and shoved it into a bag. “Please make sure that he follows the cooking directions accordingly. I’m not sure if skeletons get food poisoning, but I sure as hell don’t want to be the one that you find out by.” He handed off the parcel to Comic.

Taking it carefully, Comic smiled at him. “Don’t worry Bill. I’m going to be there every step of the way. Besides, you already know how he is.” He winked at Bill as the shopkeep snorted in amusement.

“Ah yes. How could I? After all, he is the great and…” Bill was interrupted by the bell again, this time a human rushing in, looking frantic, stuttering something about needing ham. Comic waved to Bill, silently wishing him luck before he started for home with his precious cargo.

Every step he took was lighter. The house would be warm, completely drenched with the sounds and smells of Christmas. The other night they had made gingerbread houses, icing landing everywhere and the candy rolling under the couch when the careful construction turned into a sweet battle. Christmas cookies had been baking when he left, and warm cider on the stovetop. The stuffing should almost be prepared, and the cranberry sauce would have been cooling. All that was needed was the turkey. As per the internet’s instructions, they would need to start preparing it tonight if they wanted it in time for tomorrow evening.

The more that he thought about it though, the more he thought that this was less of a technical oversight, but more of an excuse to get him off the couch. He had been moping lately, and he knew that it hadn’t been unnoticed. Especially by them. They have been trained in this sort of thing after all.

He needed to do better, he vowed. Especially for them. They had come to him when he had needed them, saved him…

* * * * *

The sun burned and scalded his sockets. He would see the after-burn of the sun for the rest of his life, but he continued to force himself to stare at it. For Papyrus’ and everyone’s sake, for those that were eternally trapped in the Underground, thanks to him. This was a fate was worse than the consistent cycle of resets. During those, he had known that he had another chance to make it right. To save everyone. Yet how he had taken it for granted. He had acted irrationally and had made a rash decision. Taking the button or joystick away from a baby was one thing, but taking it away and smashing it was a different thing altogether.

And he had smashed that reset button into smithereens. 

Asgore had long since left the mountain. He had only stared at the sun for a few minutes before leaving. He had grasped Sans’ shoulder and then had climbed down the mountain, needing to start making preparations for their new lives. Sans had remained on that cliff overlook. How odd it was. To see the sun without Papyrus… that had to be a sin in itself. How could he take that away from him? His beloved, baby brother?

He had died, not knowing that he had seen the sun… yet he had died knowing that Sans didn’t rescue him.

It wasn’t fair.

The tears came to him again, dripping down his face. What was the point? In life? It was only a matter of time until the damage he had sustained to his soul eventually killed him…

And then he would be with Papyrus again.

He hated how helpless he was. How stupid he had been. There had been so much missing data, so many possibilities, and he had been blind to them all. Papyrus didn’t deserve to be dead. It should be him that was looking up at the sun, enjoying the heat.

Though… the more that he thought about it, the more that he realized that he now held onto some of Frisk’s Determination. The power to continue, though he did not have the power to reset. Perhaps… perhaps if he managed to die he could force a reset? His magic could try and resurrect him, forcing the reset to be possible. Sure the reset button was broken now, but he had to try. He could redo anything and everything just to have his baby brother with him again.

He peered over the edge of the cliff, curious. 

There was a noise beside him. “Nah huh.” A bony hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back from the edge. “Listen bud, I recognize that look in your eyes. Been done that road once or twice. But let me tell ya, it’s not worth it.”

Sans shook the hand from his shoulder before spinning to face him. “And how do you know about what is going on inside my mind…?” His sockets widened. The bony hand belonged to him. Well, not quite him. It was like him, but an edgier version of him, but definitely him. They stood at the same height, same weight, same slouch. He even wore an oversized jacket, this one black with white trimming, a blood red collar poking out from under it. This Sans had sharpened teeth and a golden fang that glittered in the setting sun. A large crack travelled through one of his sockets…

Here was a Sans that had seen violence and hardship, and yet had survived. Perhaps, he had also seen the cycle of resets with the kid?

“That’s right, take a good look.” The other monster shrugged his shoulders, red eye lights looking him over, eyes resting for a split second too long on Papyrus’ scarf. “Almost like looking in a mirror, right? Though I’m obviously the pretty one.”

Despite himself, Sans chuckled and snorted in slight laughter. His first laugh since Papyrus’ death.

The other him, softened at that, his stance lowering somewhat. “I know that ledge is looking awfully tempting right now, but you have to think of Papyrus. What would he want from you? Would he want you to give up? If yours is like mine, he probably tried to look after you, just as well if not better as you had when he was growing up.” An arm crept around his shoulder. “Tell me, do all Papyruses hate Grillby’s? Or is it just mine?”

“No mine did too. Said it was… was too greasy.” Sans sniffed slightly, careful not to soil the scarf.

“And he probably had a tray of lasagna waiting for you back at home, just in case you decided to stumble in at a reasonable hour?” the other skeleton continued.

Sans paused at that. “No not lasagna. Paps liked to make spaghetti. Big, boiling, overcooked pots of it…” he shivered at the memory of the smoke. The house always stunk for days afterwards.

“Huh. So it seems that our worlds had some differences after all. Also explains why you look as well as you do…” Sans and him seemed to realize what the other had said at the exact same time. The red and dark skeleton glowed bright red, while Sans had turned blue. “But I tell ya what. You come with me, and I’ll try and convince you that, whatever happened, that cliff is not the answer to it,” he said.

Sans blinked in surprise as he slipper struck the beginnings of the human road. He hadn’t even realized that he was being led away from the ledge, let alone down the mountain. He sighed but nodded. “What do you have for me?” he asked, curious.

The other skeleton said nothing, only grinned at him, before opening up a nearby house. “HEY BOSS. GOT A SURPRISE FOR YA.” he called out. Sans quickly looked down at the floor, fiddling with his jacket.

Loud thunderous footsteps came from somewhere upstairs. “I SWEAR TO ASGORE SANS, IF YOU’VE BEEN HANGING OUT WITH THAT PURPLE BARTENDER ALL THIS TIME, I WILL REMOVE YOUR SKULL FROM YOUR SPINE…” footsteps stopped in front of them. Red high-heeled… “SANS…” the angry voice said, but in a much calmer tone. “SANS… WHAT HAVE YOU FOUND?” A red glove reached out prodding at Tale Sans’ cheek and chin, trying to push his skull upward.

“Seems like their barrier just broke Boss. But he was all alone up there. No other monster was with him. Can he stay for lunch?”

Sans finally looked up at the loud voice’s face and felt his sockets widen and his jaw drop. The face resembled a lot like the other him in a way. Spiked teeth and cracked and damaged bones with blood red eye lights that would surely haunt his dreams and nightmares…

But it was Papyrus. There was no doubt about it,

“OF COURSE HE CAN.” This weird Papyrus had said, quickly releasing Sans’ chin and escaping into the side room. “IT ONLY HAS A FEW MORE MINUTES REMAINING OF ITS REST, AND THEN WE CAN EAT.”

This other Sans winked at him. “You better eat up. Boss is a great cook, and you’re nothing but bones.” He said, winking at him again.

Sans couldn’t help the snicker that escaped his mouth, nor could he stop the wide, infectious grin that spread across his skull.

“I SWEAR TO ASGORE’S BEARD BROTHER, THAT MY THREAT IS NOT WITHOUT ITS MERIT!” At this proclamation, Sans couldn’t stop the laughter.

He was home.

* * * * *

And now…

“Hey guys, I’m home,” he said, walking through the door. “You wouldn’t believe the crowds other there. I wasn’t….” he stopped in the doorway, staring into the house.

He had only been gone an hour perhaps, yet the house was completely transformed. Boss and Cherry must have worked themselves to the bone to get this prepared while he was out. The whole house was an orchestra of scents and sounds. Soft carols played on the stereo and wreathes had been hung on all the doors. The kitchen was full of delicious scents. Comic could smell cookies, potatoes, various spices and cranberries, as well as that fabled stuffing. A promising start to a fantastic Christmas dinner. A Christmas tree had been assembled and was decorated the nines with lights and decorations, all while nutcrackers stood guard over the small mountain of presents. The fireplace crackled as the three stockings waved slightly in the small breeze that the tongues of flame created. Christmas cards had been laid out on the table, surrounding the little nativity scene that they had picked up from the church a few short weeks ago.

It looked like a winter wonderland… like the picture on a Christmas card.

It was perfect.

“Do ya like it?” Cherry asked, leaning against one of the doorways and watching his expression. “I know that you said that you took care of Christmas while in the Underground, but it seemed to be as good of a time as any to show ya that Underfell can party too. It’s not all blood, dust and gore down there.”

Gentle hands plucked the turkey from his hands. “HOPEFULLY YOU DON’T MIND US KEEPING IT A BIG SECRET FROM YOU,” Boss said to him. “BUT WE FIGURED THAT YOU WOULD ENJOY IT AS A SURPRISE ONCE YOU CAME HOME.”

It was perfect. This was something that Papyrus would have loved…

It meant more to Sans than all the bottles of ketchup in the world.

“It’s truly wonderful guys,” he said, his voice catching in his vertebrae. “Thank you…”

“JUST ONE MORE SMALL TOUCH,” Boss told him.

“You came home too early, we couldn’t hang it,” Cherry complained good naturally.

Had they forgotten something? Confused, Comic looked around the house. Nothing seemed missing or out of place. “What is it?” he asked, more than a little confused.

“THIS,” they said together, holding over his head a small, white berried bundle of leaves. Two sets of teeth kissed both sides of his cheeks, causing his magic to ignite and glow. The two Fells, both known for their murderous outbursts and dangerous weapons, chuckled at him.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS, SANS.” They said, kissing his cheek again.


End file.
